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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963061">Reconfigure</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalPanda/pseuds/PortalPanda'>PortalPanda</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, mention of major injury but nothing graphic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:35:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PortalPanda/pseuds/PortalPanda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tron breaks, in more ways than one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kevin Flynn &amp; Tron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Reconfigure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tron reboots with his systems in a frenzy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wakes to dozens of error warnings— he’s suffered a systems crash, he can’t move, half his code feels like it’s gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But more pressing than that, he knows he was doing something important before he blacked out. A group of ISOs was under attack and Flynn was somewhere nearby. Tron was supposed to protect them but something went wrong— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>Flynn</em>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice echoes in the strange space, amplifying the fear it holds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you’re awake!” Flynn laughs, and Tron can hear the relief in it. The program tries to relax. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The User is a blur, located on a platform far below. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Tron asks. His systems want to echo Flynn’s relief, but they’re still shaken, and he can’t see for himself if he’s unharmed. Even from a distance it’s hard to miss how fast he’s typing on the terminals at his hands; Tron isn’t sure what that means. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The User makes an unhappy noise, something between a choke and a scoff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” For a moment Flynn considers lecturing Tron about his self-sacrificing nature, but he isn’t sure that’s fair considering he’s a security program. His expression softens to a concerned smile. “I’m fine, buddy. Thanks to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron looks around, groggy. Far below him a sea of raw data glows a brilliant white. He’s held in an energy field that emanates a softer light, and he watches idly as several maintenance arms work to restore his code (something is wrong but he isn’t sure what). Streams of data float up from the pool on the floor, and Tron thinks of the sea, and the ISOs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did we get here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice lags, another sign of damage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought us here,” Flynn sounds grim. “There was a lot less of you to carry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron chooses this moment to </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>examine his injuries, and notices that (</span>
  <em>
    <span>would you look at that</span>
  </em>
  <span>) his legs are gone. He’s more surprised than alarmed, but he’s also numb and not entirely lucid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is the effect of the energy field-- Flynn once called it a computer equivalent of sedation. As a result, repairs like this don’t really hurt. This is one of the many functions of the reconfiguration room he finds himself in now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starting to hate this place,” Tron grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You and me both,” Flynn shakes his head, typing faster. “I didn’t know programs could </span>
  <em>
    <span>get</span>
  </em>
  <span> this damaged and not derez. Alan gave you some sturdy code.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the mention of his User, some of Tron’s vitals (or the computer equivalent thereof) perk up a bit, and Flynn tries not to smile. His comment had the desired effect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t realize that the program now feels much worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron remembers a disc knocking his legs out from under him. He remembers screams; the horrified look on Flynn’s face in the split second before his vision went black, when the User realized he would have to choose between saving his miracle and his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron’s systems flood with shame. He’s failed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Again</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His User would be disappointed-- it’s no wonder Alan-One didn’t want him anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron’s voice comes out quiet and weak (</span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Flynn thinks).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ISOs—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron grimaces as one of the maintenance arms pierce fresh code. Trying to move was a mistake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flynn hisses in sympathy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Easy, man.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t protect them. I couldn’t save them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did the best you could, Tron. There’s only one of you.” At the moment, there’s barely even that. “I don’t expect you to save every ISO by yourself.” Something about Flynn’s voice is simultaneously stern and comforting (Tron doesn’t know it’s the ‘Dad’ voice he uses on Sam). “Now, stay still. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The system monitor complies. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> tired, and if he closes his eyes it’s almost as if he’s in shut-down again…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until things feel sharper and he’s moving, being lowered to the platform where Flynn waits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There,” The User places his hands on the program's shoulders in case he needs to steady him as he’s released from the field. Distantly, Tron thinks it’s strange to see Flynn genuinely worried. “Is that better?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Tron nods. “Thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that his energy is circulating properly and he’s free from the numbing energy field, he can think clearly, and feels discomfort at putting his weight on new code. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flynn claps him on the shoulder, giving him a bright smile. Tron’s core feels like it’s being drained, his energy replaced with dread.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not safe here anymore,” He says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then immediately freezes. Maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>thinking so clearly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words feel like an admission of guilt, and coming from the System Monitor, they should make the User in front of him take pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flynn shakes his head, his smile touched with denial.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” His voice is soft; certain. “This fighting will stop, eventually. There are already areas where the ISOs live in peace, and there will be more when basic programs realize that they’re not a threat.” His expression turns more solemn, then, as if the program in front of him doesn’t truly understand his job. “We have to keep them safe, Tron. I need them. In my world, they could change everything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron feels something… unpleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is an idea that he accepted long ago; even when he’s fighting for the ISOs, he’s really fighting for the Users. Or, rather, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> User. And, usually, that’s okay. Tron considers Flynn his friend, and he knows that he’s a program with a purpose to fulfill. He’s happy to comply. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can’t fulfill his purpose if he’s derezzed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flynn has given this speech about the ISOs several times before. Tron isn’t sure what’s different this time. Maybe it’s the sting of so much new code, or Yori’s words from earlier that cycle still echoing in his head (</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Every time you leave, I’m afraid you won’t come back”</span>
  </em>
  <span>), but something in his core </span>
  <em>
    <span>gives</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I may…” Tron says, trying not to grimace, “Have you considered making more changes to the Grid from the outside? At least until things calm down? Or maybe even... moving the ISOs to a different system where you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> they’ll be safe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to send the message without actually saying it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to fall apart, eventually. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It feels like admitting defeat, but he tries not to think of it that way. There’s more than one way to protect programs, and for Yori’s sake (if not his own), he needs to start protecting himself. <br/>
</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron will derezz without complaint if it means protecting Flynn or the system, but that doesn’t mean he <em>wants</em> to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flynn sighs, and the sound is exhausted but not annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to resort to that, to be honest with you. But I’ve thought about it too.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “There are also problems with that plan, of course. The ISOs are so peaceful, I hate to make them feel like they’re being punished for the violent acts of other programs. And I definitely don’t want those programs to feel rewarded. I’m honestly not even sure if I </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> move them off the system, since </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>system created them.” The User drops his hands from his head, and Tron recognizes the guilt in his eyes. There’s something like fondness there, too. “But they do deserve to be safe. And so do you. I know I’ve been asking a lot of you and Yori lately. You both deserve a break.” Tron tries not to look as surprised as he feels. Flynn bites back a smile when the security programs puffs up. “I appreciate you sharing your concerns, Tron. You may be right. Why don’t we talk it over with Clu, and make a decision together?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tron hesitates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clu’s been acting… strange, lately. Moody, for lack of a better word. It doesn’t help that he’s made his distaste of the ISOs so well known in the past; Tron doesn’t know if the Administrator will act in the best interest of programs he openly wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>erased</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But then, maybe he’ll be glad to be rid of them. Maybe this plan can make everyone happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Tron says, and he manages a soft smile as they step outside. (With luck, this could all be solved within a matter of cycles. They can finally relax, take a break…)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looks up at the horizon, and his thoughts about Clu are replaced by something more urgent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’d better hurry. The portal will close soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You worry too much,” Flynn grins, nudging him, “We’ve got all the time in the world.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Needless to say, this is right before the coup.</p><p>This fic was inspired by concept art of the reconfiguration room from Tron: Legacy, where Flynn heals Tron after a fight defending the ISOs. </p><p>Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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